Long Goodbyes
by Caladhiel Elensul
Summary: An assortment of characters reflecting on the tragic events of book 6. Don't read this if you didn't finish in 24 hours like me, mass spoilers ARE present. Anyone who's a cheater like me, please read and review or flame, I care not.
1. Chapter One: Beauty and the Beast

Long goodbyes, chapter one- Fleur Delacour

As Fleur sat alone at the Weasley's dinner table, it was all she could think of. How long had it been since Dumbledore had died? A week at the least, two at the most. How long since the Death Eaters had launched their attack on Hogwarts, thought to be the safest place in Europe? And finally, how long had it been since that werewolf, curse him, had attacked Bill, her love, her husband-to-be?

She closed her eyes silently, the tears rolling down her fair-skinned face. She didn't care what he looked like. She loved him…loved him with all her heart! Nothing could change that, not even if he was the ugliest man in the world! The gashes across his face were badges of honor, showing what bravery he had displayed in the face of his greatest adversaries. But why, then, was she crying?

She cried because she knew that life would never be the same. It didn't bother her for a minute, but what would he say? He seemed glum at times, and occasionally withdrew from her. Was he afraid to look at himself in the mirror… and thus at her as well?

It was a bitter irony. She was the granddaughter of a veela, with ivory skin and crystal blue eyes, and hair so pale blond it was almost silver. And here she would marry the most human of human men: red hair that was pulled into a messy ponytail, daring to the point of recklessness, a strong, confident gait accompanied by the thunk of heavy, dragon-hide boots….

…. And his scarred face.

She opened her eyes at length. Bill was Bill, more so than he had ever been. The wolfishness of his personality only added to that rogue-like personality she had fallen in love with. The scars were something she was proud of, and perhaps one day he would display with pride as well.

Silently she stood, gliding silently up to his room, opening the creaky door as quietly as possible and kneeling beside his bed. Gently she stroked his face, smiling. It wasn't ugly to her… it was even more beautiful than before. And if Bill couldn't see this, she would make him. Despite the knowledge that Mrs. Weasley would have a fit if she saw it, Fleur climbed into bed next to him, huddling close to the comforting warmth of his body and listening to his slow, steady heartbeat.

"Hmm…?" he groaned, eyes flitting open.

"Shh…," she whispered, still keeping a hand on his face.

"Is that you, love?" he asked, smiling slightly.

"_Oui, _it is me," Fleur said softly. "We 'ave much to talk about in ze morning, my love. Rest now."

"That bad, huh?" he asked with a bitter smile.

"Eef it was," she countered, "would I be here?"

"Fair enough," he said, soothed by the reasonable argument. "In the morning, then. Let's just hope Mum doesn't see this, or she'll go mental."

He lay back down, and they closed their eyes. Several moments passed before Bill spoke again.

"I love you, Fleur."

"I love you as well, Bill… no matter what."

And with those words, Fleur bid goodbye to the life she had known, and full heartedly embraced the one she knew awaited her… and she knew she would not face it alone.


	2. Chapter Two: Boy Murderer

Long goodbyes, chapter two- Draco Malfoy

Draco sat alone, disquiet as he lay awake in bed. The room was dark save for one oil lamp beside his bed. He had turned it down low, and now sat lost in thought.

He knew that Dumbledore was right: he wouldn't have killed him. How could he? He was, after all, only sixteen years old! Dumbledore had been a hundred and fifty at least, and far greater a wizard. What had happened that had rendered him so weak?

Secretly, Draco had hoped that he would fail. Draco had hoped that Dumbledore would break free of his spell and be forced to kill him, or that maybe he would fall to his knees and Dumbledore would take him back. But then Snape had arrived, and the power that had inspired both hate and grudging respect in Draco, that glimmering light to those who feared He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was gone. Any hope of protection Draco had, gone. And with Dumbledore gone, who was now in power? A murderer, a half-man who didn't think twice about slaughtering someone for a mistake, or torturing some poor individual for amusement. Which, he wondered now, was the better choice? A mad lord who agreed on some things with him but would kill him without flinching? Or a doddering old fool of a man who loved the Mudbloods as if they were _real _wizards?

At least, he thought, he knew that Dumbledore would never harm him.

And Snape…this was all his fault! He had killed the one bit of hope Draco was now forced to admit he had for a normal life!

And finally he realized that that is what he wanted: a normal life. He wanted to be a normal schoolboy with normal problems, not a Death Eater or a murderer in training. He wanted to worry about his last year at Hogwarts, about Pansy Parkinson looking at other boys, about who would win the Quiddich World Cup this year and his school robes being too small. He closed his eyes, trying to block it out, but he knew that he couldn't: he remembered.

He remembered Dumbledore promising him safety, a normal life, his family, everything. He remembered Snape pounding up the stairs and saying the two vile words that had ended it all. He remembered leading them there. Though Snape said the words, It was Draco who had done the deed. _He _was Dumbledore's murderer. And in that moment in which his sight was filled with green light and Dumbledore slumped to the floor, he knew that his life had changed from that moment on.

One option was gone, and now only one remained.


	3. Chapter Three: Moving On

Long goodbyes, chapter three- Nymphadora Tonks

She sat on the couch, listening to the radio in the background. This was the first time she had been awake later than Remus had in a long time. Of course, the moon was finally beginning to wane.

Gently she looked down at him, brushing the prematurely-graying hair from his eyes. He was very wolfish, she thought. His appearance was shaggy and untamed, part of what she admired about him. And he looked like a dog when he slept: just glad to lay still and rest.

She was so much like him, she thought. So much like Sirius had been. It was no great wonder that they had been friends in school. Sirius… is he why I love him, she wondered?

What would Sirius have wanted, she asked herself? Surely he wouldn't have wanted to stay glum and depressed forever. But he surely didn't want her to forget him, either. Was she doing the right thing?

She stole a look at Remus again, whose head rested in her lap. Yes, of course she was doing the right thing! Sirius had always encouraged her impulsive behavior, because when Tonks had a gut feeling like she had about Remus it was always right. There was the exception of the time that she had decided it was a good idea to plow into an opposing seeker in a Quiddich game in her youth. She had ended up with a broken arm, a head injury that had her unconscious for a day, and a few missing teeth, but they had won the game.

Well, she decided as she looked at Remus' restful face, I've won the game. But the Cup's still waiting to be claimed.


	4. Chapter Four: Death is Forever

Long goodbyes, chapter four- Ron Weasley

It seemed nobody was sleeping in the Weasley house that night.

Ron had heard Fleur's delicate steps on one particularly creaky set of stairs. He hadn't even gotten out of bed. Snogging, he decided, was not all it had cracked up to be. Not to mention that Hermione had blown his cover to a very irritated Bill.

"Heh," he chuckled out loud. "Hermione…."

His latest snogging partner was the last person he would have expected when they had met. Hermione, with all her bookworm tendencies and obvious superiority, always trying to show him up… never would he have guessed that she would have had such an attraction to him… or him to her!

Well, he decided, maybe snogging Hermione isn't so bad….

It was funny how things happened. It had come out at a time when nothing seemed right to Ron. It was as if the world were a snow globe, being picked up and shaken and set back down for everyone to adjust to and settle down from. He still couldn't believe it. Dumbledore was…dead.

For the first time since it happened Ron was forced to confront the horrible truth of it: the most powerful wizard in the world, Order of Merlin First Class, five times requested Minister of Magic, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, all-powerful, all-knowing, ever-wise Professor Albus Dumbledore was dead and gone.

And death, Ron knew, was permanent.

Powerful as Dumbledore was, Ron knew that he couldn't come back. Somehow he just knew that he was gone for good, and that there was no getting around that. For Ron it was as if he had been struck deaf, dumb, and blind all at once, so overwhelming was the loss. Dumbledore was _there_! He was never _gone_, at least not for long! Maybe a few months at the most, but he was always coming back! He couldn't just go like that, within a second's worth of anticlimactic spellcasting and leave him all alone with no protection from the darkness that was inevitably coming.

Bloody hell, he thought, he was beginning to sound cryptic.

Dumbledore…gone… Dumbledore…gone… Never coming back… dead… forever….

Ron had always hated Snape and Malfoy. And now he only hated them more. Feeling the house beneath him it was almost as if he could feel his family and he knew more than anything else, he had to take care of them.

"For you, Professor," he said aloud to no one, "I swear, I swear to you that I'll do whatever it takes to protect them! I'll stand between them and Voldemort to keep them alive!"

Finding some small measure of peace in this, he lay his head back down on his bright orange Chudley Cannons pillow and fell asleep.


	5. Chapter Five: Memories and Lemon Drops

My thanks to Kathryn Isabella for inspiring this chapter Great idea, so here's your wish! If anybody else would like to see a chapter written about a particular character, please say so. I'd be more than happy to oblige, and you'll get full credit for inspiring it.

Long goodbyes, chapter five- Minerva McGonagall

Minerva had remained at Hogwarts, even after all that happened. That's how it was with death, she realized. People are so used to living one way that they can't adjust to the thought of living any other, without the person who was gone. It was as if she believed that if she didn't change anything, if everything remained as it was, then she could bring Albus back. If she didn't change anything, maybe life wouldn't change and he would return to make things exactly the way they were.

Deep down Minerva knew it was silly. But she had never dealt well with death and loss. She had been a Gryffindor in her day, yes, brave and strong, but it inwardly she cowered. Hogwarts without Albus Dumbledore… it was like winter without snow, or spring without rain and flowers. It was _just _like that: bleak, with nothing to look forward to.

She didn't want to let it go. She had actually thrown a tantrum at a house elf that had come to clean up Dumbledore's mess so she could fix the place as she wanted. But she wanted it this way. It had to stay. Everything about the room screamed Albus, and she couldn't throw that away.

She turned to look at the new portrait on the wall. There he was, sleeping away, as if nothing was wrong with the world. A small, wrapped candy was closed loosely in his fingers. Minerva couldn't bring herself to look closer. Albus had loved his sweets.

She sighed, deciding to move at last. As she stood, she brushed the golden perch that Fawkes had once stood on. It tipped and knocked over a small table.

She screeched, clutching at the perch and sitting it upright. She moved every paper to where it had been on the table, the broken quill and the small orb that held a model of the solar system. She looked around the floor, making sure she hadn't missed anything when she saw them.

It wouldn't have been much of an omen to anyone else, but to Minerva it was heart-wrenching. A small pile of lemon drops had sat on the table, and now were scattered before here.

_"Care for a lemon drop?"_

_"A what?"_

_"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle candy that I'm rather fond of."_

She had never accepted the offer. She had thought it was silly.

She pocketed one, the tears rolling down her lined face, and put the rest on the table, sorry she had never lowered her guard a bit to share such simple pleasures with her friend. And now it was too late, she never would. But she swore she would never make such a mistake again.


End file.
